


A Dishonest Proposal

by Krimzie



Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-30 22:16:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20780903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krimzie/pseuds/Krimzie
Summary: SlyFox 2019: Partners.The real Carmelita and the real Sly were the real deal. What they had now, Carmelita realized, was the worst of cheap knock-offs, and she cursed herself for setting the con in motion and cursed Sly for playing along. But she could never, never be with a criminal, and that was emphatically that.





	A Dishonest Proposal

A year and change after the incident on Kaine Island, before the shouting, before the tears (when secrets were still secrets and a hundred lies were left sleeping like the old dogs they were), Sly Cooper née Constable proposed to Carmelita Fox in the middle of her office.

Had she been honest with herself, she would’ve expected this Hail Mary. Their relationship, based on lies and maintained by more lies, had unraveled thread by thread and they’d been living in a twilight zone of work and empty platitudes for months now.

The real Carmelita and the real Sly were the real deal. What they had now, Carmelita realized, was the worst of cheap knock-offs, and she cursed herself for setting the con in motion and cursed Sly for playing along. 

But she could never,  _ never  _ be with a criminal, and that was  _ emphatically  _ that.

Minutes prior to the trainwreck breakup of the century, Carmelita had been nose-down at her desk, deep in the most enthralling episode of customer support phone tag. “Yes,” she said for the fortieth time that hour, phone pinned between her shoulder and her cheek, “that’s correct. F-O-X. I just need access to the vehicle database--it’s a four-digit pin--no, no don’t transfer me to--” Her eyes squeezed shut and she slammed the phone on its receiver.  _ Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen--nope, not helping _ . She ripped off her glasses, tossing them unceremoniously onto her mountain of paperwork, and stalked over to her office couch. She flopped onto her stomach and promptly screamed bloody murder into a pillow. 

“Now, Carmelita, what did Shouty Pillow do to deserve such gusto this fine evening?” Sly sauntered into her office, his jacket hooked on a finger and slung over a shoulder. Had she not been so frustrated and absorbed in her work, she might’ve questioned that jacket and might’ve noticed his nerves.

“Mrrhmh mneh mn mon,” she muttered into the pillow. 

“Say again?” Sly said smartly, squatting next to the couch, his head cocked. “Couldn’t quite make that out.”

Carmelita dragged her cheek across the pillow, turning to the raccoon. “CNRV reset my pin. I just needed a license plate number,” she whined and punched Shouty Pillow as she sat up. “The city records lost another perp’s housing history. Oh, and did I mention I need my weapons permit renewed and wouldn’t you know? No one’s in the office until the new year.”

“Well, it  _ is _ Christmas Eve,” Sly said carefully, taking a seat next to her and placing his jacket too delicately onto his lap. 

She leaned lightly into his shoulder, then leaned back suddenly. “Oh, shit,” she said, groaning. “You made reservations.” Maybe in the back of her mind she knew exactly what those reservations would entail. Maybe he’d been dropping hints she’d been ignoring. 

Maintaining this charade required a  _ lot  _ of ignorance.

“S’okay. No hassle cancel and it made some other couple’s night, I’m sure,” Sly said. “I’d be just as happy if you stop where you are and come home with me. We can watch  _ It’s a Wonderful Life  _ and cuddle and…” His eyebrows waggled. She snorted, patting his cheek gently.

“Considering I’m stuck until I can get the information I need, I suppose I can acquiesce,” Carmelita said dramatically. As she stood up to file her files and seal her forms, her back was to Cooper. As time would tell, he would be using that opportunity to fish out a ring box from his jacket and take a knee. If she’d only known, maybe she’d have come up with some excuse to run forms to the copier and leave without ever looking up. Anything to avoid the next two hours of hell. As it was…

“You know, I really wish they would just transition to all digital for--” Carmelita looked up from the folder in her hands and leapt back, nearly tripping over her office chair.

There he was, on one knee, that little ring--probably his mother’s--hiding in a velvet box in his clasped hands as he readied his speech. He’d barely taken a breath when---

“Cooper, _ I know! _ ” Carmelita barked, too quickly and too loudly. Her eyes were blown wide in panic. Her heart raced uncomfortably in her chest, pound-pound-pounding in rhythm with a newly blossomed headache and dios, she had to barf.

Sly’s face froze, impassive. “Wh-what?”

“You can’t  _ propose _ . We can’t get  _ married _ .” Her teeth grinded compulsively and she wanted to punch him, punch herself, cry, laugh, and puke. “I-I know you know that I know!” she shouted at last, turning away to glare daggers at the far wall.

Sly didn’t have a retort. As convoluted as her declaration was, he knew. Oh, he knew. His hands flopped down and he stood up, nerves gone, replaced with a steely defeat. “Well,” he said, voice low, “what are we doing, then?”

The tangle of awful, nauseating emotions settled somewhere between heartbreak and rage. “You tell me, Ringtail,” she growled as her tears puddled, clouding her vision.

And thus began a full and heady two hours of crying, yelling, insults, a confusing hug, and three rounds of “but when did you know?” before they settled on the fact that really, they both always knew, especially when Sly’s neurology report came back clean, but hell if they weren’t in it to win it at that point. And at least they were tit-for-tat on the dishonesty, right? She lied about who Sly really was, Sly lied about his amnesia. Sly tried to make that sound positive but it just made Carmelita sick every time they looped back to it. 

“I just thought it would work,” Carmelita had repeated more than once. 

“So did I,” he’d responded every time. Then he’d get that glint in his eye, the glint she’d missed, the devious glint she hadn’t seen since before the incident. “Come on, Carmelita. Let’s make this work. Let’s do this anyway, but for real.”

“You know I can’t,” she’d said. “You’ll be back on the lam soon enough, casing all the payloads you’ve missed this year.”

And he couldn’t refute it. He wouldn’t. He’d only ask, over and over,  _ why can’t you?  _

“Because I can’t. I just… can’t.”

Back at her desk, Carmelita pinched the bridge of her snout under her reading glasses, pushing them up over her forehead. Everything felt swollen and her fur was sticky with tears. Sly had left from the window and hopped down the fire escape, muttering something about regrouping with the gang. Carmelita assured him she’d give them until the new year but then she had to pursue them for arrest - but she’d be giving Chief Barkley the full report tonight. Fingers twitchy with adrenaline (and studiously ignoring the picture of them on her desktop), she typed.

_ At 9:32PM on 24 December, Sly Cooper’s amnesia spontaneously reversed and he has resumed criminal activity.  _

The full report. What more could she say? 

_ Recommended all friendly contact with the former constable cease,  _ she added.  _ Arrest pending. _

The finality of it all made her shudder and as she sent the report to print, she cried whatever she had left.


End file.
